


Fangirl

by tashtush



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Chubby Reader, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Light BDSM, Misogynistic Slurs, Public Humiliation, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-02-18 13:00:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashtush/pseuds/tashtush
Summary: The Calypsos host a raunchy challenge.
Relationships: Troy Calypso/Reader, Tyreen Calypso/Reader
Comments: 29
Kudos: 145





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh, another break from my perpetual fic hiatus to write Borderlands-villain thirst!
> 
> A second chapter is on the way—in the meantime, don’t forget to leave kudos, comment, and obey! ;)

_"What is up my loyal brothers and sisters? God Queen Tyreen coming at you live, with a juicy, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! We're hosting_ — _get this_ — _a chance to win a starring role in one of our livescreams! But this won't be just any livescream, oh no. You won't be screaming because your lungs got converted into a set of bagpipes_ _, or because your spine got twisted into a 'dirty meat pretzel'..._ _t_ _his time, you'll be screaming in pleasure!"_

You were reinforcing the security of your front door when you paused, wondering if you had heard correctly. You fumbled for your ECHO device and moved to sit on the sofa, settling down to give the stream your rapt attention.

 _"Troy and I will be hosting auditions for a very nasty, very holy challenge! That's right, my sexy bandit babes, we're looking for a pious and pervy gal to 'worship'_ _me"_ —she made a "v" with her fingers, then dragged her tongue between them— _"on our new ECHOporn channel!"_

You bit your lip. You didn't realize that Tyreen liked women.

_"Come to the HBC this Saturday at noon for your chance to win an Eridium-tier spot between my legs! All you need to bring is yourself, your sluttiest lingerie, and a reason why you're worthy of my tasty, wet blessing."_

You wondered if she would like your slutty lingerie. You unconsciously rubbed your thighs together, imagining which set you'd want her to see you in.

 _"Remember, your God Queen loves you...and now's your chance to love her back! Until next time, my beautiful children_ — _stay bloodthirsty! Or should I say, stay Queen-thirsty? Ha! Signing off for now!_ "

You collapsed back onto the cushions, absent-mindedly letting your ECHO fall from your hand and onto the floor. Your mind began to race, wondering what it might feel like to be in the winner's position. In fact, a few more intriguing positions came to mind, all of them involving Tyreen making you her proverbial bitch.

You were just a timid, soft-spoken office worker from Promethea. The Maliwan invasion had left you unemployed, vulnerable, and frightened—and to put the icing on the tragedy cake, all of your favorite burrito spots had gone out of business. Needless to say, you were struggling. The very last thing you needed was to have an even bigger crush on the tyrants who were responsible for ruining your life.

Even though you were busy grappling with your survival, you still found the time to watch the Calypsos regularly. In fairness to you, they were next to impossible to avoid, as they seemed to be projected on every screen in the Meridian. Despite your extreme fear of the Children of the Vault, however, the more you watched the Twin Gods, the more transfixed by them you became.

You thought that Troy was unorthodoxly handsome. While you found his tattoos, face mods, and massive cybernetic arm to be extremely intimidating, you quickly realized that they were a significant contributor to why you were so attracted to him in the first place. He looked predatory _,_ like he would have no qualms about shoving you against a wall and taking exactly what he wanted from you. His pale, blue eyes, smug smile, and long, muscled torso were also difficult to overlook.

At first, you found his personality to be a bit grating—his juvenile insults, tacky editing, and high-pitched whoops were far from your cup of tea. Overtime, however, you grew to become more and more endeared to him. You had even giggled the last time you saw him dab after a particularly gruesome "Let's Flay", which was the precise moment you realized that you had a problem.

Tyreen, however, was the twin you were most drawn to. She looked physically small, yet her persona was so inexplicably _large._ You were captivated by the way she riled up her fans, asserting her dominance with a strong, playful air. She could kill anyone she wanted to, anytime she wanted to, yet she still spoke with a tenderness to her "family" that often caused confusing fluttering sensations in your chest.

It also didn't help that she was just absurdly cute. You realized that was a paradoxical sentiment for one of the most terrifying people in the galaxy, but her button-nose spoke for itself. You also always noticed how short she looked next to Troy—the top of her head just barely reaching his shoulder—and you couldn't stop yourself from finding it devastatingly adorable. Again, a phrase that should probably never be applied to Tyreen Calypso.

Most of your fantasies revolved around her humiliating you with that same tender voice she used with her followers. You wanted her to lovingly tell you that you were completely at her mercy, that you were her _pet_ —nothing more than a toy for her to enjoy while she conquered the galaxy. This is why, when you heard about her challenge, you were a bit overwhelmed.

Regardless of your attraction toward her, you acknowledged that she was more likely to leech you than fuck you. You also had the distinct feeling that Troy and Tyreen were more into the thin, sinewy, psycho type—not the shy, chubby, cubicle-type.

While you were content to just entertain yourself with harmless fantasies, you were surprised to learn that some of your neighbors had actually joined the CoV. You supposed that this was a viable option in these desperate times, but you couldn't bring yourself to consider it for a few reasons:

  1. You didn't know how to eviscerate your enemies, nor did you particularly care to learn.
  2. You were soft, non-athletic, and prone to tearing up at ECHOtube kitten videos.
  3. You just weren't, at your core, interested in joining a murder cult. But even if you were, you would be really, _really_ bad at it.



Some things were better left to fantasy _,_ which is exactly why you closed your eyes, slipped your hand down your panties, and imagined all the ways in which you would "worship" your God Queen.

—

The next morning, you found yourself sorting through your lingerie, still curious about what your hypothetical audition outfit would be. You chose a particularly skimpy negligee: a violet, lace teddy that left just enough to the imagination. You smiled at your reflection, loving how soft, curved, and sensual you looked against the fabric. As you turned to examine the view of your backside, you heard the start of a new livestream broadcasting from within your discarded pants' pocket.

You hurried to pull out your ECHO, hoping that Tyreen would offer up some additional details about her special challenge _._ You idly wondered if she might find your awkwardness cute, not that you'd actually ever get the opportunity to find out (nor were you entirely sure you wanted to).

 _"Exciting news, my brave bandit-warriors!"_ Tyreen began, her arms extended enthusiastically. Troy stood behind her with a massive grin plastered across his face, firing an SMG triumphantly into the air. Something about the cityscape they were standing in front of looked unsettlingly familiar, and a sinking feeling in your stomach only confirmed your suspicions.

 _"We've just landed on Promethea, and we're getting ready to open up this planet's not-so-secret vault! I think it's about time Atlas shared their key with the Family, dontcha think?"_ she winked playfully at the camera. _"Oh! And you know their dorky-ass CEO, Rhys Strongfork? The bandit who delivers his freshly-ripped creep-stache to me will win a free VIP spot in our next Let's Flay!"_

You stared speechlessly at the screen, stepping back to collapse onto your bed as it finally came to you: they were standing in front of a view of the Meridian Metroplex. They were also after _Atlas_ , whose headquarters were only about a fifteen-minute drive from your little apartment complex. Tyreen continued to speak again, and you weren't sure if you could handle whatever she would say next.

_"Kill anyone who tries to get in the way of our divine plan, and you'll be guaranteed a front-row seat to the opening of the Great Vault! Unless you, uh, die, of course."_

_"But then you'll become a revered marty!"_ Troy interjected hastily, _"And when you die a martyr, you never die!_

 _"Yes, that's right!"_ Tyreen said, backpedaling with commendable ease. Her voice then became low, almost tender, as she leaned in close to the camera. _"If you sacrifice yourself for me...you'll live forever."_

You shuddered. While her words were extremely unsettling, the softness of her voice sent a small chill down your spine.

 _"Now go and make this planet your bitch!"_ she shouted, pumping her fist into the air. _"Signing off for now—don't_ _forget to like, follow, and obey!"_

So, that was it. That was your cue to stay inside for as long as possible, doing your damn best to avoid the inevitable influx of raving fanatics. It was also your cue to curl up beneath your blankets and hide like the soft, trembling nerd that you were _._ Thinking about meeting the Calypsos was all fun, games, and orgasms when you thought they were millions of miles away. Now that they were encroaching on your actual reality, the prospect felt more nightmarish than exciting.

For the first time in your life, you wished you had a gun. Literally everyone seemed to have one except for you.

—

Over the next few days, your neighborhood remained shockingly quiet. If bandits were really stalking the streets, wouldn't there have been at least _some_ unhinged shrieking going on outside of your window? You hadn't even seen any Maliwan soldiers lately, so it was very possible that you were just being overly-cautious. The Meridian was huge, after all, and Atlas's headquarters weren't _that_ close by. Your severe case of cabin fever tipped the scales in favor of throwing caution-to-the-wind, so you decided to go out hunting for some human interaction.

You resolved to visit one of your usual haunts: a cozy little dive bar that was just around the corner. Somehow, it had remained relatively untouched by wartime chaos, and it was just about the only place you felt safe outside of your apartment. Just one quick drink and a chat with the bartender, and you'd be cured of the crushing feeling of isolation. Once that was done, you could go on your merry way and continue living in fear. Easy.

The well-lit walk to the bar was pleasant and quiet. You didn't even see any CoV propaganda plastered on the walls for once, due to your neighbors' attempts at maintaining a sense of normalcy. Feeling unusually lighthearted, you had decided to put on one of your cuter outfits: a black dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. You were determined to do anything that would make you feel like a human for a few hours, and you decided that feeling cute was one of them.

You opened the door to the mostly-empty dive, moving to sit in your usual corner of the bar. You ordered your favorite drink, and just contented yourself to sit there, listening to the mellow music that flowed from the radio.

After speaking with the bartender for a bit, you noticed that a Calypso stream you had missed from earlier that day had started to play. Tyreen was gesticulating wildly with a huge grin on her face, and Troy was shooting a comically huge champagne gun directly into his mouth.

They were certainly celebrating something big, so you leaned over the old, wooden bar, trying your best to make out what Tyreen's faint voice was shouting.

As if the volume had suddenly been turned up, her voice became much clearer. A little too clear.

You slowly turned around on your barstool, and what you saw was so cruel of a joke that you almost laughed.

The _one_ night you decided to leave your apartment was the one night when the Twin Gods wanted to get wasted.

—

The Calypsos coolly wandered into the bar, chatting excitedly about something—probably whatever they were just celebrating on screen. You had a difficult time catching any of the specifics, however, because you were too preoccupied with attempting to be absorbed into non-existence. Maybe if you were lucky, you would suddenly become a siren with the power to dissolve into shitty upholstery.

The hairs rose on the back of your neck as you saw them make their way toward you, and you decided to spend your probably-final moments taking in the sight of them. Tyreen really was small—she was much shorter than you expected, and her figure looked exceptionally slim beneath her huge coat. What struck you most, however, was how she instantly seemed to own the room with her presence, despite her diminutive frame. You were horrified, but that didn't stop you from finding her strikingly beautiful.

Troy, on the other hand, had much more of a pronounced swagger than his sister. Just like her, he looked even more attractive in person, and you found your eyes trailing from his sharp jaw, down his bare chest, to the toned hips that were barely concealed by his low-rise pants. As far as your last views went, it could have been much worse.

Your poor, friendly bartender opened his mouth to speak, as if he were about to welcome them into his establishment. He seemed to think better of this, however, as he abruptly beelined toward the back door, knocking over a few bottles in the process. As much as you wished you could have followed his lead, you remained glued to your seat, completely frozen. Unfortunately, neither fight nor flight were your forte.

They both stared at each other for a beat before they burst into laughter, and to your deep dismay, Tyreen moved to sit down on the stool directly beside yours. Troy followed behind her, planting his massive robotic hand on the bar before leaping nimbly over it. Your mouth was bone-dry as you watched him move to examine the dusty shelves that were lined with liquor, his tall, daunting figure looming directly in front of you. Maybe if you didn't make a sound, they simply wouldn't acknowledge your existence.

As the universe continued to punish you, you noticed Tyreen turning to face you in your peripheral vision. You took a deep breath and decided to peek at her shyly, and you saw her large, white-blue eyes appraising you in a deeply unsettling silence. In every stream of hers you'd ever watched, she spoke non-stop _._ You weren't used to _not_ hearing her talk, so naturally, you felt that you were in imminent danger. You were prepared to fall onto your knees and grovel, until you saw her lean back in her stool to look you up and down, her lips quirking up into a sly smile.

"You're a _cute_ one!" Tyreen exclaimed, her expression lighting up playfully.

Oh.

_Oh._

"Yeah, Ty," Troy laughed, pouring a seemingly lethal mixture of liquors into one giant glass. "She's so your type, it's almost embarrassing." He paused his work to drag his eyes down your body, and you blushed helplessly. "THI- _ICK!_ " he shouted, his voice high and teasing.

Turns out Tyreen did like chubby girls, after all. You squirmed in your seat, acutely aware of just how much of your cleavage was exposed.

Tyreen rolled her eyes at him, then promptly returned her attention to you. It was then that you found the strength to move your mouth again, deciding that now was the moment to make a profound case for your life.

"So...you're um...you're not going to kill me, then?" you practically squeaked. You thought you'd be able to come up with something a bit more compelling to say, but bargaining was decidedly not part of your skillset.

Tyreen and Troy laughed again, and he spit out some of his drink.

"Don't worry, I have zero interest in killing you," she soothed gently. It was a stark contrast to the loud, larger-than-life voice she used in their stream—all gore, guns, and victory. Now, it was low, flirtatious, and your body momentarily abandoned its fear in exchange for a different kind of tension.

You shakily took another sip of your drink. Was this encounter divine retribution for your shameful fantasies? Could sirens read minds? Regardless of whatever _this_ was, you decided that you were going to do your best to get through this encounter physically unscathed.

"So, um," you began, clutching your glass like a lifeline, "what brings the Twin Gods to a shitty little dive like this?" Conversation. You were actively attempting to make conversation with the Calypsos. You were clearly not good in a crisis.

She chuckled at your half-hearted attempt at nonchalance, then leaned in closer to you. Her gloved hand was just inches away from yours, and you felt your face growing hot at her close proximity.

"Well, we're just doing a little celebrating," she said mischievously. "You see, we just took the power of your planet's vault—"

"—hell yeah!" Troy shouted, and you jumped as he sent several bottles flying across the room in an ethereal, violet orb. The glass shattered as soon as it hit the wall, and he hooted excitedly. You didn't know he could do that. One Calypso with powers was certainly frightening enough.

Tyreen rolled her eyes again, then moved to grab the glass that Troy had poured for her. "You can relax, sweetie! We're just out to have a good time! Sometimes all-powerful Gods just want to get traaashed!" she exclaimed in her signature sing-song. She moved to refill your glass then, which exposed her thin, toned arm from beneath her coat. Your eyes were drawn to the blue, glowing swirl of her siren tattoos, which contrasted beautifully with her rich, brown skin.

Somehow you were still alive. And, more shockingly, Tyreen Calypso was calling you _sweetie._

"So," she continued casually, propping up the side of her head with her fist to keep eyeing you. Her eyes were even more enthralling up close, and you found yourself stealing a glance down to her lips. "What do you think of our our little stream? I know you've been watching it," she said impishly, tapping her finger against the tip of your nose. She then pointed to the screen, which was now playing an old, particularly gruesome Let's Flay. You think you saw the vague shape of a Tink shish kebab, but you decided not to look too closely.

You finally mustered the courage to make full eye contact with her, hoping that it wasn't too obvious that you were quite literally trembling. It was at that moment that you decided to take a wild risk. Franky, it was quite possibly the most stupid thing you would ever do, but your judgment was clouded by fear, desperation, and the overwhelming desire for her to kiss you.

"I watch it daily," you answered shyly, fingering the glass that you were still fiercely clutching. "I mean, you're, um...both very easy on the eyes."

Tyreen laughed delightedly.

" _Oh!_ Did you hear that, Troy? I think she _likes_ us."

" _Likes_ _us_ likes us?" he asked flirtatiously, leaning over the bar to give you a toothy grin. Even when he wasn't standing at full-height, he still towered over you. You felt small and helpless beneath him, and you stifled a small whimper.

" _Likes us_ likes us," Tyreen confirmed, her voice low and coquettish.

You blushed, ducking your head again and losing the last ounce of nerve you had left. Matters were only made worse by the fact that the twins were essentially cornering you now, and you felt a pronounced swell of fear and arousal.

"Mm, well," Tyreen said, slipping a hand under the skirt of your dress, "if you're interested in us, then you might be especially interested in a juicy little project we're planning…" You took a sharp intake of breath as she began to caress your bare thigh, now failing to suppress a small, helpless moan.

"Looks like we've found our girl," Troy said, a smirk tugging at his harsh, modified features.

Tyreen lifted your chin so that you were looking into her eyes again, using her thumb to lightly stroke your lower lip. Your eyes fluttered at this, coming to the realization that you were a complete goner, whether you lived or died.

"How would you like to star in one of our streams, honey?" she asked seductively. "Let me play with you?"

You closed your eyes in complete disbelief, exhaling slowly before you finally responded.

"You mean that...that ECHOporn thing?" you asked weakly as Tyreen moved to stroke your cheek with the back of her hand. She chuckled.

"Wow, you really do watch us, huh? Well, Troy, looks like we've got ourselves a little fangirl on our hands!"

"Oh, she'd be perfect," Troy said eagerly. "A Promethean chick? That'll give our followers something to be excited about! We're _dominating!_ " he punctuated his last word with a hard slap to the bar, and you jumped again.

Tyreen suddenly stood then, taking your hands in hers to lift you to your feet. You blushed deeply at the intimacy of the gesture, looking at her timidly from beneath your eyelashes.

"If you come with us, I'll be sure to take _good_ care of you," she said alluringly, running her fingers lightly down the curves of your sides. "A big-ass room in our ship, free food, access to our holy hot tub...I mean, let's face it, honey, you're sure as hell not gonna thrive in this dump." She gestured vaguely around the empty bar, and you saw just how abandoned and worn-down it truly was. You didn't want to admit it, but she had a point.

She moved closer to you then, her lips ghosting lightly against your earlobe. You closed your eyes and sighed, shivering as hot breath rolled against your skin when she finally continued.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," she breathed against you, her voice barely a whisper. "You're too pretty to eat."

It was at that precise moment when your body completely betrayed you. You were wet. Terrified, but wet, nonetheless. And even if you weren't already extremely interested in Tyreen's proposition, you had a feeling that you wouldn't have much of a choice in the matter, anyway.

She moved her head back to wait for your response. Judging by the smug smirk that curled her lips, you suspected that she already knew what your answer would be. You nodded your head slowly, giving her a small, shy smile.

"I'll do it," you said softly.

Tyreen giggled excitedly and clapped her hands together. "Now that's what a Queen likes to hear, fangirl!" She grabbed your hands again and spun you on the spot, and you couldn't stop yourself from giggling, too. You suspected that you had descended into a profoundly deep level of shock.

She turned to Troy then, who was now working on his "second" drink. You weren't sure if a liter-sized glass qualified as a single beverage, though.

"Should we cancel the auditions?" she asked, still holding your hands. You focused on the feeling of her fingers, which were surprisingly soft for someone who made her living off of bloodsport.

"No, let them think they have a chance," Troy replied, his words only now beginning to slur. "Better for morale, Ty."

"Ugh, fine," she sighed exasperatedly. She finally released you so she could down the rest of her drink. After she slammed the empty glass down onto the bar, she jerked her head towards the door, as if to tell Troy that it was time to leave.

Instead, to your surprise, Tyreen turned to you again and gripped your hips, pulling you so your front was pressed flush against hers. Your eyes fluttered at the abrupt, close contact, very aware of the feeling of her breasts pressing against yours. You felt Troy come up behind you then, and you gasped lightly as you felt his human hand rest against your lower back, creeping down to grab your ass.

"I hope you like exhibitionism," she whispered, planting a light kiss on your neck. Before you could sputter out a response, the world flashed red, and the three of you disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been exactly two days since you, Troy, and Tyreen had teleported to Pandora. 

True to Tyreen’s word, you were given your own room on their ship—and it was undeniably “big-ass”. In fact, it was bigger than the entirety of your apartment, complete with an exquisitely soft bed that you were convinced you could drown in. Pink, neon hearts decorated the expansive walls, along with a copious amount of CoV memorabilia. 

Your new home revealed Tyreen’s true intentions for her contest winner: she wanted a kept woman. This was made even clearer when you found a chest in the corner of the room, filled to the brim with bottles of lube, toys, and restraints. You fished out a small, pink flogger, shivering as you brushed its leather tails against your arm. 

This realization made you feel an unholy amalgam of apprehension and arousal. Your logical brain knew that being the girl-toy of a megalomaniac was a problem of the highest order, and your sleeplessness was clear evidence of this. However, as you set the flogger aside to try on a cute, pink collar, you remembered Tyreen’s words to you in that fateful dive bar:

_You're too pretty to eat._

You fingered the metal heart that was fixed in the center, remembering the dark, sultry expression on her face. No matter how anxious you were about your predicament, you knew that you desperately wanted her to keep whispering “sweet-terrifyings” to you. 

To your disappointment, you actually hadn’t seen much of the twins since you’d arrived. You figured that they were preoccupied with doing something horrifying, like sucking the life-juice out of Vault Hunters, or filming one of their upsettingly crunchy “Slay-SMR” videos.

You also remembered that they would be hosting dummy auditions for their ECHOporn stream, per Troy’s recommendation—so they had no choice but to leave you to stew in your own sexual tension.

You settled to pass the time by meandering through the ship’s decks, eventually discovering the location of the aforementioned “holy” hot tub. You lowered yourself into the steaming water, grateful for a reprieve from the agonizing knowledge that you would be broadcasted to their followers the next morning. More specifically, you would be broadcasted to their billions of followers as you ate out their Queen.

You shut your eyes tightly. You suddenly remembered why you couldn’t relax.

As you submerged yourself deeper into the water, a new, unsettling possibility occurred to you: what if they changed their minds? You wouldn’t be surprised if they found a sexier, nastier, and much more vicious “bandit babe” at their auditions. They were choosing from a pool of deranged cultists, after all—if Tyreen broke their collective legs, you wouldn’t be surprised if they kissed her boots in thanks. You weren’t sure if you could live up to that level of kink.

More importantly, if they did choose to replace you, would they send you back to Promethea? Or would they get rid of you in a much less considerate, much more bone-breaky way? You dunked your entire head under the hot water and groaned. 

Later that night, you tossed and turned in your infini-thread count sheets, your mind buzzing too loudly with anticipation to allow for any sleep. You even tried using one of your new toys to see if an orgasm would help you pass out, but it only made you more restless. You came thinking of Tyreen.

If all went according to plan, you would be servicing her—the actual Queen of your fantasies. She also happened to be the Queen of billions of actual murderers, all of whom would be aware of you and your sexual proclivities. 

After another eternity of confusingly sexual catastrophizing, you finally began to slowly drift in and out of consciousness.

That is, until you heard your bedroom door open.

You quickly turned to switch on your nightstand’s light, squinting as you adjusted to the harsh brightness of your room. You saw a tall figure begin to approach your bed, and you clutched your sheets tightly, bracing yourself for whatever would happen next.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you heard a low, flirtatious voice say. You felt your mattress sink under your visitor’s weight, a large, robotic hand ruffling your hair.

It was Troy.

“I’m here to get you nice and camera-ready for your ECHOporn debut,” he announced mischievously, grinning down at you. The deep lines of his face contorted strangely with his wide smile, and you found it perturbingly hot. You unconsciously lifted up your blankets higher up over your chest, suddenly feeling very vulnerable next to his tall, imposing figure.

It also didn’t help that he continued to be shirtless. More shirtless than usual, if that was even possible. You tried your best not to let your eyes linger on the “Calypso” tattoo that was etched across his attractive, well-sculpted abdomen.

“Oh! O-okay, just let me get dressed,“ you said a little too quickly, a little too casually. You began to crawl out of bed toward your dresser, until you felt a muscular arm hook around your middle and yank you back onto the mattress. You yelped as he roughly pulled you into his arms, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Troy chided gleefully, enjoying your squirming. “Do you really think you need clothes where you’re going?” He fingered a strap of your nightgown with his metallic hand, rolling the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. “Just come with me, okay?”

“Okay,” you said weakly, still struggling to catch your breath. He was alarmingly strong, and as you grabbed onto his red, tattooed bicep for support, you decided that you could really get used to his manhandling.

He chuckled and released you then, allowing you to step out of bed and slip on your shoes. You dutifully followed him as he began to leave the room, but as he reached to tap the door’s controls, you saw him do a double-take at something on the floor. You followed his line of vision, and you immediately cringed in embarrassment.

You had left your toy chest open, and the vibrator that you had caved to using the night before was situated directly next to Troy’s boot. 

He turned back to look at you with a knowing smile, his eyebrow lifting playfully.

“Getting nice and comfortable already, huh?” he teased.

“I had to pass the time somehow,” you answered shyly. “What do they say? Home is where your vibe is?” you said awkwardly, raising your shoulders in a weak little shrug. This time, you cringed internally. You wanted to kick your own ass.

He laughed.

“That is both the cutest and dorkiest shit I’ve ever heard in my life.” He looked down at the toy again, then back at you. “Nice choice, though.” 

You blushed, too flustered to reply.

He gave you one last sly look before continuing to lead you out of the ship, and you trailed behind him, feeling sufficiently overwhelmed by your exchange. If you were already struggling with this conversation, you weren’t sure how you were going to survive the day’s main event.

As soon as you and Troy stepped out onto the dusty soil of Pandora, you saw it—the Cathedral of the Twin Gods. It was much larger than it looked in their streams, towering over the horizon like a spiked, neon behemoth. You had never seen anything like it before in your life, and you found yourself stopping in the middle of the bridge to stare.

“Cool, huh?” Troy asked, chuckling at your overt marveling. He planted his hands on his bare, chiseled hips, admiring the cathedral with a loving gaze. “Wait ‘til you see the grand orgy ballroom.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Just kidding,” he laughed, ruffling your hair again. “You wish, slut.” 

He led you through the mouth of the cathedral, and you dutifully followed him down a long, opulent hallway. Colored light streamed through tall, stained glass windows, containing angular, hallowed likenesses of the twins with outstretched arms. They loomed over you with every step you took, and you almost felt like you should be reverent under their judgmental gaze. As far as counterfeit gods went, they played the part exceedingly well.

After a few more minutes of keeping up with Troy’s long-legged stride, he finally led you into a small dressing room deep within the belly of the cathedral. In its center was a large vanity, its surface scattered with an assortment of makeup and beauty supplies.

“Go ahead and put on some mascara,” he said, giving your shoulder a little squeeze. “I’m going to grab your special little ‘costume’.”

You did as you were told and sat in front of the vanity, beginning to apply the mascara that you had excavated from the pile of products. As you brushed the wand against your eyelashes, you took advantage of the moment to observe Troy in the mirror’s reflection. 

As he was hunched over and digging through the room’s dresser, you studied his broad shoulders and the large, metallic spine that was embedded in his skin. You had never seen it exposed on the stream before, and you found yourself imagining what it might feel like to run your hand down its curve, his large, lean body moving above you. Troy turned back toward you then, and you quickly resumed your attention to your eyelashes.

“Put this on,” he said, coming up beside you to drop a bundle of white lace in your hand. 

You stood and unfurled it in front of you, and you saw that it was beautiful, delicate harness lingerie. You felt a thrill course through you, admiring how elegant and sensual it looked. However, it seemed a bit scant for your abundant figure, and you felt your heart sink slightly.

“It’s so pretty,” you said gently, “but I’m not sure it’s going to fit.” You held it up to your body, giving Troy a sheepish look. He chuckled and crossed his arms, eyeing your body appraisingly.

“Oh, I think it’ll fit real nice,” he said. “What’s the worst that could happen—it’s too tight and your tits spill out? Sounds like a win-win to me.” 

You blushed. While he wasn’t in the spotlight nearly as much as Tyreen, he, too, had his own way with words.

“Now c’mon, try it on!” he urged eagerly. 

You looked at him tentatively, reaching down toward the hem of your nightgown. He didn’t bother to turn around to give you even a modicum of privacy—he just stood there, watching you with crossed arms and an expectant leer. You shivered.

You felt the tension in the air noticeably thicken as you lifted the fabric over your head, the cool air hitting your exposed, prickling skin. You folded it neatly and set it aside on the vanity, then stepped into the lingerie, quietly fitting and adjusting it straps around your bare thighs, stomach, hips, and breasts. You couldn’t muster up the courage to make eye contact with him just yet. 

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, and you just stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of yourself. White, silky straps crisscrossed elegantly over the thick curves of your body, while intricate lace patterns barely concealed your breasts. The lingerie didn’t hide your shape at all—in fact, it only emphasized it.

You were wrong about the fit. You looked fantastic. You finally worked up the nerve to turn back to Troy then, hoping that he shared your sentiment.

His eyes darkened hungrily.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” he said, point-blank. 

“Thank you,” you said. You struck a little pose, and he chuckled.

“You see, Ty and I had the idea to make you look real sweet and innocent,” he said, approaching you slowly. He still had that predatory look in his eyes, and you watched him helplessly as he began to loom over you. He moved behind you then, pressing his chest against your back, and you let out a shaky breath at the sudden close contact.

“Nothing riles up our followers like a little corruption,” he continued, his voice low and seductive in your ear. “With this ‘virginal’ little getup,” he snaked his fingers to your front and snapped the straps on your hips, “it’s almost like you’re marrying into the family, ya know?”

“Clever,” you said in a daze. He chuckled, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat as he ran his hands up and down your stomach. If he was trying to turn you on before the stream, he was succeeding. He was a goddamn fluffer extraordinaire. 

He paused his hands on your hips, then gently turned you around so you were facing him. He guided you back down onto the vanity’s chair, then suddenly dropped to kneel in front of you. You blushed, gripping the seat of the chair tightly as his hands spread your legs, giving him room to edge even closer to you. He used a metallic finger to brush a stray lock of hair out of your eyes, then grabbed a tube of red lipstick off of the vanity’s surface. 

“You know, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous of Ty right now,” he said, beginning to apply it to your lips. You sighed softly at his words, overwhelmed by the feeling of him pressing himself against you. His human hand was resting on your hip, caressing your skin as he slowly glided the stick against your lower lip. 

“If it were my stream, I’d be making you come, instead.” 

You couldn’t stop yourself. As you saw him there, working diligently between your legs, a single desperate plea spilled from your lips:

“Please.”

Troy’s looked from your lips to your eyes, then back down to your lips again. He grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head back roughly, and you gasped helplessly in surprise. Suddenly, his mouth was on yours, and his hot, wet tongue slipped between your lips almost instantly. You moaned against him and returned the kiss in earnest, burying your hands in his dark hair in an attempt to pull him even closer.

When he finally pulled himself back for air, you saw that his lips were smeared with the lipstick he had applied just a moment before. You breathed heavily as you tried to regain your breath, eyes fixated on the irrefutable, messy evidence of what had just transpired. He turned to look at your reflections in the mirror and laughed.

“Worth it,” he said.

He grabbed a makeup wipe and removed the smeared lipstick from his mouth before removing it from yours, starting over so you were presentable for the masses. You silently let him do his work, too stunned by the memory of his tongue.

As Troy was affixing a small microphone over your ear, a frighteningly large bandit man entered the room from the back door. You shrunk in your seat, doing your best to cover yourself with crossed arms and legs.

“It is time, God-King!” he shouted gruffly. He looked from Troy to you, and his eyes lingered a little too long for comfort.

Troy stood from his kneeling position then, holding your hands to lift you with him. He quickly adjusted your hair, then gripped you by the shoulders.

“Now go out there and show off that juicy ass of yours,” he said. He sounded genuinely encouraging, and you felt something warm stir inside of your chest. “What do they say? Break a leg? Break a tit? Whatever, just break something!” he said playfully. 

Troy stepped away for a moment and returned with a delicate, sheer robe. You took it from him and slipped it on, tying its long sash in front of you, still in a daze after your kiss. You almost forgot that you were about to eat his sister out on camera.

Oh, god. You were about to eat Tyreen out on camera. 

The bandit man approached you then, offering a meaty arm for you to take. It was bizarrely respectful, but you figured that anyone who served the Calypsos closely knew better than to mess with their toys.

You turned back to give one last pleading look at Troy, and he winked. 

“Say hi to the crowd for me,” he said, smirking.

“Wait, what—“ you began, but it was too late for answers. You were being ushered toward the door, and you held your breath for whatever was waiting on the other side.

The bandit pulled the handle and blindingly bright sunlight flooded your senses. You were led toward the altar that towered in front of you, knowing you were about to be plunged into the baptismal water that was your very first livescream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience! I hope to bring y'all the next chapter a lil' sooner. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the porn! Just a warning: our girl is very into everything that happens in this chapter, but there are definite non-consensual elements to her experience that would absolutely not fly irl. If that's your cuppa, happy reading!

“Make some noise, my bandit perverts!” Tyreen shouted, arms outstretched at the massive, frighteningly boisterous crowd. “God Queen Tyreen coming at you live, presenting you with my very first, very nasty new ECHOporn series: The Eat Your Queen Challenge!” A cacophony of hoots and roars exploded from the audience before you, and you swallowed harshly at the sound.

You watched as multiple cambots descended around you, their lenses pointing at your robed body from seemingly every angle. You knew this day was coming, but nothing could have possibly prepared you for the feeling of knowing millions of eyes were watching you. 

If it had just been you, Tyreen, and the cameras there on the altar of the Twin Gods, perhaps you would have been able to forget that you had a view count. However, a group of at least two-hundred “eridium-tier” bandits clamored to get a better look at you, as two massive screens projected your image in unnerving detail.

All of this forced you to acknowledge the reality of the situation: you were on display. More significantly, you had never been more turned on in your life.

“This gorgeous little thing is going to pay a very personal tribute to your Queen!” Tyreen yelled out lasciviously, her hands sliding down your shoulders. The crowd of bandits jeered at you as their eyes bored into your body, which was just barely concealed by white, sheer silk.

“You see, she’s a new _Promethean_ convert,” she continued, pushing you forward as if to show off a trophy, “and I thought to myself: what better way to celebrate our victory than by choosing this scrumptious little snack to please me?”

As she held you firmly in place, you were forced to be face-to-face with the sea of fanatics, all of whom looked very eager to see you humiliated. You mistakenly made eye contact with a burly bandit in the front row, and he gripped his cock through his pants, lewdly puckering his lips at you. 

You felt yourself shrink against Tyreen’s grip, desperately wishing that you could make a beeline for the door you entered from. The unsparing realization that this was an absolute impossibility, however, sent an unexpected wave of arousal crashing through you. You stifled a whine.

“So, let’s get to it! What is the ‘Eat Your Queen Challenge’? Well, this curvy little sweetheart,” she began seductively, continuing her fingers’ path from your shoulder up to your lips, “is going to offer up her slutty little mouth to me. That’s right—she’s going to eat her queen out!” 

You whimpered softly at her words, but promptly had to slap a hand over your mouth. You forgot that Troy had tucked a microphone behind your ear, and what normally would have been a small, imperceptible sound, was suddenly amplified all around you. You bit your lip, trying your best to contain yourself, but the denial only made it all the more difficult. 

“And get this, superfans—if she can make me come in under five minutes, she gets to spend the whole night with yours truly!” she sang out jovially, “Isn’t she a lucky little slut?”

The crowd hollered wildly, and you swear you could hear a gruff voice sobbing with envy in the distance.

You blushed. This “prize” was news to you, and you felt an undeniable curiosity about the prospect of winning. What would it be like to spend time alone with her, away from Troy, the cameras, and the screaming maniacs? This thought allowed you to forget about your circumstances for a microsecond, until Tyreen resumed her shouting.

“This is as much a gift to you as it is a gift for me, my loyal Family,” Tyreen cried out lovingly. “A glorious, probably sticky display of what it means to love your God Queen!” She slapped your ass hard, and you cried out in pain and surprise. The crowd cheered, and you began to hear a humiliating stream of lewd encouragements:

_“Fuck her face, Tyreen!”_

_“Make her drip all over the floor!”_

_“Come in the little whore’s mouth!_

_“Is this not the Holy Stitch ‘n’ Bitch?!”_

_“No, that’s Thursday!”_

_“Eat her ass!”_

Tyreen strode down the altar toward her throne, then casually dropped herself onto the cushioned seat. Her small, dark lips quirked up into a devilish smirk, and she proceeded to do a “come hither” gesture with her finger.

“Don’t be scared, fangirl,” she cooed, spreading her legs in a less-than-subtle invitation. “Slip off that robe and show Pandora what you’re made of!”

You began to walk toward her, shakily letting your robe slide down your shoulders and onto the ground. Your lingerie was revealed; and as the cool air hit your exposed skin, you felt as if you were walking into a dream. Something about the aggressive shouts from the surrounding bandits made you feel a perplexing mixture of fear and arousal, and a powerful warmth pooled between your legs.

“And here she comes!” she proclaimed excitedly, leaning forward in her seat. “Oh, and she’s looking absolutely yummy in her little baptismal lingerie,” Tyreen purred, running a hand up and down her inner thigh. 

She turned her head to the nearest cambot and pumped her fist into the air. “Wreck that like button if you agree!” she shouted uproariously, and the audience erupted into chaotic applause, practically screaming their vulgarities now.

Despite the chaos that was breaking out behind you, seeing Tyreen sit there, all splayed out with her pretty, platinum hair falling into her face, you felt your hesitation begin to wane. Your eyes made a path down to the swell of her breasts, the curve of her waist, and to a patch of bare skin that was exposed through the tear in her pants. You wanted her. And as you looked back into her eyes, you saw that she wanted you, too.

Her eyes were narrowed, hungry. And she exuded such a seductively effortless confidence that you remembered why you were so eager to submit in the first place. 

You wanted to serve her.

You waited timidly as she took in the sight of you, her expression serious, contemplative. Despite the unbelievably treacherous position you were in, you were somehow more concerned about her approval than your own well-being. After a few more agonizing seconds of watching her gaze drag slowly over your body, her lips curled into a wicked smile.

“Come here, sweet thing,” Tyreen cooed, and in one fluid motion, she pulled you onto her lap. You looked at her bashfully, enjoying the feeling of her warm thighs pressed against yours, her thin, muscled arms wrapped snugly around your waist. 

You took a moment to admire her face, which was only just mere inches from yours now. She was even more beautiful up close, her scars looking especially striking against her small, delicate features. 

She smirked as your eyes fluttered down to her lips, and she responded by dipping her head down to press them against your neck. You tilted your head back, eyes closing instinctively as she began to cover your skin in hot, sensual kisses, her hand trailing up to cup your breast.

“Do you like that, sweetie?” she asked affectionately, her hot breath rolling against your ear. You shuddered, still not accustomed to the smooth, sultry timbre of her flirtatious voice.

Before you could properly respond, she suddenly bit your neck, pulling your skin gently between her teeth. You moaned loudly at the sharp, unexpected pain, and you heard the sound carry from the altar’s speakers and out over the crowd. Even as you heard the bandits laugh in depraved glee, you found yourself neglecting to care—you were too busy enjoying the feeling of Tyreen’s tongue soothing the mark she undoubtedly left on you.

She giggled and gave you one last nibble before addressing her followers again.

“Oh, she’s a noisy one, superfans! I can tell I’m going to have fun with this blushing little slut!” she shouted playfully.

You startled as one of the cameras quickly zoomed to settle in front of you, its lens extending to get a good shot of your breasts. You inhaled sharply as Tyreen began to massage them with both hands through your bra, slowly pulling the white lace down to reveal your hardened nipples.

“And she has amazing tits, too!” She exclaimed with the same zeal she would use for a human sacrifice. You saw your now-exposed breasts projected on the screens in your peripheral vision, and you suddenly remembered where you were. You cried out in embarrassment, and the crowd of bandits laughed and hollered lecherously.

You dared a peek out into the crowd, and to your horror and excitement, you saw that a few of the bandits had actually started masturbating. One young woman in the front row was staring at your tits shamelessly, biting her lip as her hand worked vigorously inside of her pants. It was almost too humiliating for you to process.

“Now,” Tyreen announced seductively, running a gloved hand down your stomach, “I’m going to see just how grateful she is for this divine opportunity.”

Her fingers slipped beneath the hem of your panties, and you pressed your face into her large coat, too embarrassed to even chance another glance at the crude bandits. You weren’t expecting her to touch you like this, and you were overwhelmed by the knowledge of how many murderous cultists were about to see you squirm.

“Oh, she’s too cute! Look at her, pretending like she’s not loving this!” she exclaimed condescendingly, chuckling at your hiding. You felt her pull the crotch of your panties to one side, and her fingers ghosted a path down your lips. You whimpered at her touch, the high, needy sound muffled by the fur of her coat. 

“Such a cute little pussy,” she murmured as she began to rub light, deft circles around your clit. You moaned softly, thrusting yourself against her agonizingly slow fingers. It had only been approximately three minutes since the stream began, and you were already making a writhing fool of yourself. 

After torturing you with a few more gentle strokes, she dipped two fingers further down between your lips. She withdrew her hand, and a long string of wetness stretched from you to her fingers, resulting in all of the cambots’ lenses zooming in to capture the intimate display.

Just like that, the entire planet knew how turned on you were. The version of you that existed a week ago would have been appalled by the very notion, abjectly terrified. The version of you that existed now, however, prone and powerless in Tyreen’s arms, felt nearly euphoric—and only moderately terrified.

Tyreen laughed in delight, then turned to address one of the cameras.

“I know it never rains on Pandora, but I swear, this slut is _wet!_ All for me, too—what a sweetheart!”

She pulled her hand from you completely then, and you instinctively bucked your hips at the loss of contact. Your body seemed to be acting on its own accord, and with every moment you spent with Tyreen, it only became needier and needier. She licked your wetness off of her fingers and hummed in jovial approval.

“So, so delicious,” she said, after removing a finger from her mouth with a loud, punctuated pop. “Even more delicious than the pack of NOGs I sacrificed this morning!”

You almost took it as a compliment.

“But that’s not the point of this challenge, my loyal family!” she continued, slapping your pussy sharply for emphasis. You gasped. “This is about her God Queen’s pleasure. She’s gotta make me come, and fast!” 

She turned to look into your eyes again, and you reddened under the intensity of her gaze. When she looked at you, she had this intoxicating way of making you feel like you were the most precious commodity in the universe. At that moment, you were convinced that she could get you to do absolutely anything she wanted.

“Get on your knees,” she commanded, caressing your cheek with her thumb.

There was a distinct edge to her voice, and despite your unquestionable desire, it struck a fearful chord in you. No matter how sweetly she spoke, it was impossible to lose sight of how truly dangerous she was. You felt grateful that you were more than willing to obey, and you’d be lying to yourself if the precariousness of the situation didn’t excite you.

You took a long, deep breath and rose from her lap, lowering yourself to settle between her thighs. This was the moment of truth—the moment you’d been fantasizing about since the first time you watched her dominate the masses with her effortless, dogmatic charisma. You reached for her belt, but your nerves caused you to fumble with its large, silver buckle.

“She’s isn’t wasting any time, is she?” Tyreen laughed, winking at the nearest cambot. You heard shrill, cruel laughter erupt behind you, which didn’t do anything for the dexterity of your fingers. She laughed again, and before you could dissolve from sheer embarrassment, she decided to take pity on you.

Her hands covered yours as she helped you unbuckle and remove her belt, relieving you of your clumsiness. You then dutifully crouched to untie her boots, and she unceremoniously kicked them off the altar, followed by the torn pants that you slid down her legs. You caught a glance at one of the large screens that sandwiched the altar, and you saw that a few bandits were actually fighting over her boots.

When you moved to unbutton the bottom of her tunic, you were surprised to see that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She spread her legs even wider, and you were confronted with the enticing sight of her pussy. Her dark, curly hairs were visibly slick with her wetness, and you felt exceedingly flattered by how turned on she was. Her lips were plump and flushed, and, very happy with your view, you had to consciously stop yourself from prematurely running your fingers over them.

You edged forward and looked up at her, tentatively placing your hands on her legs. You ran your palm up and down her thigh, fascinated to discover that her tattoos stretched down the entirety of her left side. When you had fantasized about being with Tyreen, you had always imagined that she would feel rough, true to a battle-worn bandit queen. However, as you continued to caress her skin, you were pleasantly surprised to discover that she was alluringly soft to the touch.

“Now, let’s see how fast she can get me over the edge!” she shouted, roughly grabbing the back of your head to wiggle her hips even closer to your face. 

“And hey, if she does a good job, maybe she can be my official love slave!” she continued. She looked down at you and smirked smugly.

“Would you like that, little slut? To be used by me whenever I wanted?” she asked seductively, caressing your cheek. She coaxed her thumb between your lips and into your mouth, and you sucked dutifully, savoring the taste of her skin.

It wasn’t until Tyreen posed this question that the reality of your circumstances truly sank in. You used to have a cushy job. An apartment. Health insurance. That life was now long gone—and you were absolutely certain that you would never get it back. But as you kneeled there, looking up at her with wide, adoring eyes, you suddenly realized that you didn’t particularly care.

You would have never admitted it to yourself before, but your old life was painfully boring. Sure, you had a couple of friends and a neighborhood full of reliable fast-food establishments, but not even your favorite burrito order could ease you of your chronic ennui. You woke up. You went to work. You came home. Nothing truly thrilling ever happened, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you would crack under the tedium.

Your new life, on the other hand, was the antithesis boring. There was a reason that you watched the Calypsos day-in and day-out, tuning in as you slogged away at your tiresomely predictable job. They lived in a much more unpredictable, much more exciting world. Granted, it was also a much more murder-y world, but it was exciting, nonetheless. And now you were a part of it.

Were you terrified? Completely. Did you fear for your life? Nearly every minute since you’d met them. Despite this, you couldn’t deny that you had never felt more alive. You relished in the fact that the most powerful, most attractive people in the galaxy saw something special in you—a “divine” purpose. Even if that divine purpose was being their resident fuck toy. 

You could think of worse fates.

As you looked up at Tyreen, gazing into her hypnotic blue eyes, you knew your honest answer.

“I’d love to be your slave, God Queen,” you responded obediently, albeit weakly. You heard the crowd break out in uproarious applause, and you knew that your fate was sealed.

“Good girl,” Tyreen said. She genuinely looked very pleased with you, and you felt a distinct warmth curl in your belly.

“Alright, my loyal, horny family! Wait no longer!” she shouted exuberantly. “It’s time for our little convert to get a taste of the celestial! And by the celestial,” she animatedly looked left and right before leaning in toward a cambot, “I mean my pussy!” The bandits guffawed wildly, and you felt a jolt of fearful exhilaration. This was really happening.

Tyreen threw up her tattooed arm, lifting three gloved fingers into the air.

“Let’s start the clock in... _three!_ ”

She dropped a finger. You looked up at her face, desperate, tense.

“... _Two!_

She dropped another. You looked between her legs, and you observed a trickle of arousal running down between her lips.

“.... _One!_ ” 

You heard the sound of a loud buzzer harshly cutting through the air, and the bandits roared.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You were finally able to do what you’ve been imagining in a loop for the past two days, and you didn’t have to wait another moment. You dipped your head and licked a tentative stripe between her lips, and you instantly felt slick, hot wetness glide against your tongue. She tasted sweet. Any remaining trepidation you felt suddenly melted away, and all you wanted to do was to taste even more of her.

Her inner labia were soft and silky between your lips, and you eagerly spread them apart with your pointed, searching tongue. You quickly found the small, firm head of her clit, and you hummed softly against her, feeling yourself become even more wet as the taste of her arousal colored your senses. Tyreen exhaled heavily, watching you intently with hungry, half-lidded eyes.

As you began to circle her clit with your tongue, some of the bandits’ vulgar words filtered back into your consciousness. Each shout of filthy encouragement sent a distinct pulse of heat between your thighs, shortly followed by a sharp tug of humiliation.

_“Good little fanslut!”_

_“Suck that clit, baby!”_

_“Let me fuck your tight little pussy from behind!”_

More of them were likely masturbating to you now, getting off to the sight of you bent over and licking their queen. You imagined the gruff, dirty men jerking themselves off to you, their strong hands pumping aggressively over the heads of their swollen cocks. You wondered if they were thinking about what it might feel like to be buried inside of you.

The face of the masturbating woman appearing in your mind’s eye, and that only inspired you to bury your face even deeper between Tyreen’s thighs. You fully pressed your mouth against her pussy then, focusing all of your energy onto her engorged clit. You wrapped your arms around her thighs, pulling her hips even closer against your now steadily-lapping tongue. 

“Oh... _oh!_ Fuck, honey,” Tyreen laughed breathlessly, grabbing a handful of your hair, “that feels fucking amazing.” She rested a tattooed leg on your shoulder, and you squeezed and caressed the curve of her ass.

As you continued to lick her clit, you took the liberty of running your hands up her stomach and beneath her tunic. You felt more soft skin, mingled with scars and sweat, her firm abs tensing against your fingers. Her body was perfect.

Tyreen stroked your hair lovingly, massaging your scalp as you looked up at her with wide, adoring eyes. You began to eat her faster, practically worshipping her with passionate abandon. You felt a thrilling sense of accomplishment as you watched her rapidly shed her cool composure, her head tilting back as her breathing became more labored.

In a rare stroke of boldness, you decided that you wanted to feel all of her. You withdrew your mouth and rubbed your finger against her entrance, gathering lubrication before slowly easing it inside of her. Watching your finger disappear into her pussy was maybe the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and you felt her contract deliciously around you.

“I’m not sure if this is against the rules or not,” Tyreen shouted hoarsely toward the crowd, “but I’ve decided that I really don’t give a shit!”

She encouragingly scooted her ass closer to you, and you slipped in another finger, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of how wet she was. Pleasing her felt exceptionally satisfying, and it was a feeling you could really get use to. 

You began to pump them in and out of her rhythmically, moaning softly as you felt her hot, tight walls squeeze around you. You lowered your mouth again, resuming your licking in time with each deep thrust, curling your fingers upward to massage her from the inside.

You looked up at her, and you were surprised to see that she was covering her microphone with her hand. As she watched you work between her legs, uncharacteristically light and feminine moans floated out of her, which only resulted in you moaning in response. You were overwhelmed by how turned on the both of you were, and you suspected she didn’t want her followers to hear how undone she truly was. You felt another rush of pride course through you.

“I’m definitely keeping you around, fangirl,” she whispered, lips parted wantingly as she focused on the sight of your diligent mouth. 

You could tell that she was getting close when you felt her push her pussy against you, seeking more pressure from your tongue. You furrowed your brow in concentration, moaning helplessly against her as you ate her out with a renewed fervor. You no longer cared that your voice was being amplified for the entire audience to hear, and the sloppy, obscene sounds of your mouth only spurred you on. You heard faint grunts and groans coming from the surrounding crowd, and you felt so turned on that you thought you might be able to come without touching yourself.

“Does my pussy taste good, baby?” she asked breathlessly, now holding your head firmly with both hands as she rubbed herself against your face. She was moaning incessantly now, too swept up in the moment to continue to care about covering her microphone.

You moaned in affirmation, lapping and sucking at her pussy like your life depended on it (you weren’t convinced that it didn’t). Your face was wet. Your fingers were soaking. You couldn’t believe how wet _she_ was, and all you could think about was the feeling of having her come against your mouth.

“Say it,” she commanded sharply, now tugging roughly at your hair, “so everyone knows that you’re my loyal little whore.” You gasped at the pain, startled by how suddenly forceful she was. Just when you thought you had the upper hand, she had to harshly remind you of who was actually in charge. It was euphoric.

“Your pussy tastes so fucking good, God Queen,” you cried out. You meant it, and you felt completely submissive to her, high.

You heard the mass of bandits howl and applause, and you dripped at their attention, knowing full well that everyone could see the moisture that was rolling down your thigh in high-definition.

“Very, _very_ good girl,” she chuckled, eagerly pulling your face back between her legs. She resumed her focused thrusting against your tongue, and it almost felt like she was using your face to masturbate. 

After just a few more moments, Tyreen began to breathe faster, harder, and you felt her entire body begin to tense around you. You watched her as she arched her back against her throne, moaning in a long, helpless crescendo as her hips bucked and twitched against your mouth. You were still thrusting your fingers into her, and you swore you got close to coming yourself when you felt her silky insides contract rhythmically around you. Her orgasm passed in long, powerful waves, and you gladly licked up the small gushes of cum that came with them.

After a few more moments of slow, gentle strokes from your tongue, you finally pulled back from her. Tyreen just laid there, eyes closed and sighing softly as she came down from her evidently potent orgasm. She stroked your lower lip gently then, making intense eye contact with you as you both struggled to catch your breath.

Without any warning, she suddenly stood, composing herself by hoisting her pants up and putting her bleached hair back into position. She approached the audience again with outstretched arms, and you watched, suitably dumbstruck. It was like you had just emerged from some kind of trance, and you couldn’t quite process what had just happened.

“There you have it, my loyal children! She made her queen come in…oh!” she turned to look at the large, red clock that was projected onto the wall, “four minutes and thirty-five seconds! Not bad, fangirl,” she turned, smirking at you. You couldn’t stop yourself. You smiled.

You turned to acknowledge the crowd for the first time since beginning the challenge, and to your shock, you locked eyes with a bandit as he ejaculated all over his pumping hand. It was simultaneously the most disgusting and arousing thing you’d ever seen.

You were deeply disappointed that the stream appeared to be ending. However, as you slowly came out of your horny stupor, you quickly began to feel shy again. Even though you were officially a Child of the Vault, that didn’t mean you weren’t scared shitless of your “brothers and sisters”.

“That’s it for today, superfans! Don’t forget to like, follow, and obey!” she shouted, wagging her finger playfully at the audience. She leaned over to a cambot and winked. “And leave a comment on what you’d do to this little whore if you had the chance!”

It was official: you had reached a new low. You never wanted to read a comment thread more in your entire life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hideously long wait! Life got away from me, but the last thing I want to do is leave a fic unfinished. I hope y'all enjoy! <3

You groaned as you stood beneath the rainfall showerhead, allowing the steaming water to wash away the sweat and adrenaline of your morning.

During your first night in the twins’ ship, you were pleased to discover that your lavish new bedroom also happened to be attached to an equally lavish bathroom. Its completely nonessential (but appreciated) features included perfectly heated flooring, a spread of ridiculously expensive-looking beauty products, and a massive walk-in shower, which you were currently enjoying to its fullest.

You were especially grateful for these luxurious amenities because they were a great distraction from the murder cult you were pretty sure you just joined.

As you massaged lavender-scented body wash over your breasts, you were again made markedly aware of the stubborn ache between your thighs, courtesy of one Tyreen Calypso.

You had done it. You had made her come in under five minutes, and in front of her entire following, no less. Since you were still very much overwhelmed by the entire state of your present existence, you truly did not expect to feel such a keen sense of pride. With that pride, however, also came the maddening side effect of a profound horniness that you didn’t even think was possible—which only made you more anxious for the night to come.

Because of your lewd triumph, you were going to be “blessed” with a private visit from the God Queen herself. To your dismay, the suspense of receiving your reward proved to be just as taxing as waiting to eat her out in front of millions of viewers.

You had no idea how Tyreen would behave when she wasn’t performing for a camera. When she was on screen, she spent the majority of her time stroking the ids of her violent followers or playing the tender, all-loving mother. Simply not knowing what to expect from her without the customary bravado sent you into a tailspin of racing speculation.

What did she have in store for you? Would she be sweet, merciful, and tend to your needs? Or would she demand more pleasure from you, use you like the “love slave” that you so eagerly agreed to be while on your knees?

There was also, of course, the ever-present possibility that she would get bored of you and kill you.

You liked to think she meant it when she said she was “definitely keeping you around”. And by “liked to think she meant it”, you meant you “desperately hoped she meant it.” But you weren’t sure if you could take the words of someone who had a face buried between their legs at face value.

You tentatively slipped your fingers downward, beginning to rub your clit gently at the possibility that she might actually want to reward you.

Sure, you wanted her to fuck you. You wanted her to make you a writhing, orgasmic mess. But if she chose to continue to take from you, you decided that you wouldn’t complain. Not just because complaining seemed like a fantastic recipe for an early death, but because you most certainly had a bonafide submission kink.

After a few more seconds of half-hearted stroking, you withdrew your fingers and continued to wash yourself. You didn’t want to make yourself come. You wanted her to tell you to make yourself come. You wanted to do what she commanded, and you wanted to continue to be at the total whim of her desires. You stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a plush, heated towel, steadfast in your resolve.

You spent the rest of the day lying on your bed, unable to stop yourself from watching and rewatching the vulgar theatrics of the morning’s stream. You stared at your ECHO device, wide-eyed and captivated, taking in every little minute detail that the camera was able to capture.

You appeared to be high out of your mind while you ate her out, your eyes half-lidded and hazy as you watched her with adoration. You logically knew that it was you diligently lapping between her legs, but you were hardly able to recognize yourself. There was no denying it: it was you. And you looked absurdly hot.

Your hair was pretty and disheveled from Tyreen’s incessant, stroking hand, and your lips were lovely and slick with her wetness. Most remarkably, however, was how stunningly voluptuous your body looked from every angle, your skin glowing against the delicate, white lace. You had to hand it to Troy—he knew how to pick an ensemble.

While the cameras tended to favor their focus on you, you relished the rare moments when the screen cut to Tyreen’s face. She was alarmingly gorgeous; and while you did your best to admire her beauty in the moment, you were a little too preoccupied with getting her off as quickly as you could. This is why you were more than appreciative of the opportunity to truly take your time to study her.

You eagerly observed the ways her dark lips moved as she murmured encouragingly to you, or when she moaned or sighed softly. As she became more and more aroused, you admired the cute way she furrowed her eyebrows, and how she would bite her lip whenever she tried to stifle her moans. You found yourself shamelessly skipping back to watch one of her particularly alluring lip-bites at least four times in a row.

It was also nice to see her pussy up close again, to say the least. Seeing your tongue lap and stroke her lovely, plump lips was excruciatingly hot, and you felt yourself struggling to not make a run for your toy chest.

You rolled over onto your stomach, your fingers almost sore from gripping your ECHO device a little too tightly for a little too long. For what felt like the fiftieth time that day, you were compelled to scroll down to read the comments, and for the fiftieth time that day, you had to brace yourself for an assault of filth.

**xskin-xslavex**  
.skiinnn

**aelksjge**  
Sldkjfsljeglsiejglsjefks,efbb imflsiejfsg

**grokme@t**  
MOR SWEAT GIRL PUSY

You didn’t know what you expected. Literacy wasn’t one of their followers’ strong suits. But the few legible comments you did find did nothing to alleviate the nagging throb between your legs.

**b3ast-c0k**  
that hungry cutie could use a spitroast with my thick veiny cock in her cunt and my best friend’s @paul_bonegrinder_69 9 inch down her throat

**paul_bonegrinder_69**  
if i had a chance with this whore i’d let her suck on my fat pink head until i cum all over her face. and then my buddy @b3ast-c0k could split her pussy open at the same time i love u bro

**jadex00**  
I’d ride that slut’s pretty little face hard until she choked on my pussy. I’d show her how to really be used.

You whimpered and instinctively crossed your legs, your body clearly seeking any kind of friction. This was practically self-induced torture at this point, and you weren’t sure if you could avoid touching yourself for much longer.

As you continued to obsessively monitor the steady influx of new comments, you heard a gentle knock on the door.

You felt your heart jump into your throat.

You quickly shot up from your splayed out, less-than-flattering position, then rushed toward the nearest mirror to make yourself at least moderately presentable. You arranged your hair back into position, then strategically pulled a strap of your nightgown down your shoulder. You leaped back onto your bed and reclined against your pillows seductively, attempting to appear as if you made your career out of looking effortlessly sensual.

You deserved an A for effort. You were actually shaking like a leaf in a monsoon.

“Come in,” you called out, your voice an octave higher than usual. You were hopeless.

You stared at the door, and your breath caught in your throat as you watched it slowly begin to open. When Tyreen finally stepped into the room, you genuinely felt your jaw drop. You didn’t realize that that was a thing that happened beyond the realm of cartoons, but here you were, dropping your jaw, nonetheless.

She was wearing a simple white crop top, with gray boxer briefs clinging just below the slight curve of her hips. Her nipples were very visibly erect beneath the thin fabric, and a sizable strip of her taut stomach was bared for you to admire. You’d never seen her dressed so casually before, let alone wearing so little. She looked the very definition of sexy, and you found yourself at a loss for words.

“Hi there, fangirl,” she said, her lips quirking into a wolfish smirk. She practically stalked toward you then, her white-blue eyes fixed on yours. It was obvious that she knew the vice-grip she held on you.

You were wholly at her mercy, and she was more than ready to take advantage of this fact.

She began to crawl onto the bed, and you felt your chest tense when the weight of her body shifted the mattress beneath you. Under the cool, violet light of your bedroom, you watched her lithe figure inch toward you, a sultry look darkening her catlike eyes. This was it. The two of you were finally alone, and you were about to find out just how Tyreen Calypso liked her women.

“You did so, so good today,” she cooed affectionately, scooting herself down the sheets to lie next to you. She wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you in close, entwining her legs with yours. Your heart fluttered wildly, suddenly having to adjust to the disorienting and intimate reality of how warm she felt.

With a spark of daring, you let your hand trail down to caress her bare thigh, confirming that it was just as deliciously soft as it looked. She just smiled at you fondly, her face mere inches from yours.

In that moment, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary, she didn’t seem dangerous. In fact, she genuinely appeared to be glad to see you, a warm, albeit lecherous expression on her face. And as you searched her features, admiring the scars that decorated her cute, upturned nose, all you could think about was kissing her. And just like that, your fears began to wane.

“Fuck, I haven’t come like that, in, well...I really can’t remember!” she exclaimed, caressing your bare hip beneath your nightgown. Her hand trailed back to the curve of your ass, and she spanked it. Hard. You gasped, and she giggled in delight at your thunderstruck response.

“I usually leech my little ‘girlfriends’ before I can get to that point,” she continued, her laughter becoming rueful. “Being so hungry all the time can be a real bitch, y’know?”

You froze. You realized that you may have let go of your trepidation a little too soon. However, as if she sensed your fear and wanted to quell it, she suddenly took your face into her hands and pressed her lips against yours.

Being kissed by Troy was fun. Exhilarating, even. But being kissed by Tyreen was something else entirely. She kissed you so slowly, so deeply, that it felt like she was savoring you with ritualistic purpose. There was no denying it: she wanted you.

You sighed at the feeling of her enticingly soft lips, gladly allowing her tongue to slip into your mouth and glide against yours. You felt her nails trail up and down your bare back, sending a cascade of shivers down your spine as they lightly grazed your skin.

After a few more hot, sensual strokes of her tongue, she sucked on your lower lip playfully, pulling a giggle from you before withdrawing her mouth from yours.

“Mmm, fangirl, you taste so yummy,” she murmured, stroking your cheek affectionately with the backs of her slender fingers. You just looked into her eyes, panting slightly as you tried to recover from her more than adept attention. You actually felt dizzy.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” she said, using her thumb to lightly trace the outline of your lips. “Though, I gotta be real with you...you look _super_ cute when you’re scared.”

Despite her slightly unnerving compliment, you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling in response. At this point, you didn’t know who you were anymore. You watched a pleased smile spread across her face and she chuckled, pulling your hips even closer to hers.

“Feeling a little less nervous now?” she asked softly, stroking your hair as she watched you with a tender, expectant gaze. You closed your eyes at the sensation of her soothing fingers, and the warmth of her crotch that was nearly pressing against yours. Logic and self-preservation did not exist in this moment.

“...Yes,” you replied slowly, the corners of your mouth quirking into a small, shy smile. “I trust you.”

It may have been the stupidest thing you would ever say. There was a mountain of evidence stacked against your intelligence, and you had hundreds of hours of broadcasted murder to prove it. Though you had every reason to sprint out the door with flailing arms, you felt extremely reluctant to leave hers.

In all the times you had watched the Calypsos, you had never once seen the expression that was currently on her face. Sure, it had its signature tinge of mischief, but the look in her eyes was so sweet, so shockingly earnest, that it seemed like she actually cared about how you were feeling. You were so accustomed to her arrogance and totalitarian charms, that you weren’t quite convinced she was capable of it. Sure, she sweet-talked her followers and sang their praises, but even you knew that was purely strategic. This, however, felt different.

It was new, intimate. Like it was just for you.

“Good,” she said, looking genuinely pleased with your answer. And just like a switch had been hit, her smile morphed into an impish smirk.

Without warning, Tyreen rolled herself on top of you, roughly pinning your wrists above your head. You cried out at the sensation—not only because of the unexpected sting of pain, but because of the feeling of her straddling you, her soft thighs snugly planted against your hips.

You tried to test her strength, and your wrists barely shifted against her unforgiving hold. She was terrifyingly strong, and the more you squirmed against her grip, the more wet you became. And as you looked up at her, your chest heaving as you attempted to catch your breath, you were taken aback by your new view.

Her expression had darkened, her pretty eyes narrowing with a predaciousness that made you think she wanted to devour you. Your gaze trailed down to the soft swell of her breasts, which, due to her position above you, were now partially exposed beneath the neckline of her top. You wanted to explore her, to slide your hands up her body and massage her hips, her tits—but her grip cruelly deprived you of your prurient whims. She leaned down so that her lips were positioned right beside your ear, her hot breath rolling against your prickling skin.

“Oh, you love this, don’t you?” Tyreen whispered roughly, squeezing your wrists even more tightly than she already was. You whimpered. “You _love_ being my little toy. My obedient, nasty, little pussy-worshipping _slut_.”

Whenever you watched the Calypsos’ streams, you always found yourself feeling weak in the crotch whenever Tyreen’s voice would get that gravelly quality to it. It tended to surface when she was feeling particularly excited, usually when carnage in her name was at an all-time high. To hear that same sultry sound directly in your ear, essentially calling you _hers_ , made you feel such a strong tug of arousal that you whined out your response without thinking.

“Fuck yes, God-Queen.”

She laughed delightedly before kissing you again, harder this time, and playfully grinded her crotch against yours. You writhed against her, thrusting upward to match the rhythm of her hips in search of more friction. She seemed to be just as wet as you were, her soft pussy hot and slick against yours, even through two layers of fabric. You started to moan gently as your arousal began to steadily build, but instead of indulging you any further, she suddenly halted her gyrations. You whined, and she chuckled at your pronounced pout.

“Let’s have some more fun, baby,” she said in a low, excited voice. She released her hold on your wrists and rolled off of you, swiftly scooping you up onto your knees and into her arms. You giggled against her touch, all of your senses heightened from her thrillingly rough treatment. You didn’t know how much more fun it could get.

“So, I take it you’ve discovered your little ‘treasure chest’,” she said, gesturing toward the tell-tale open box in the corner of the room. You blushed. You did a whole lot more than discover it, and you were almost embarrassed by how thoroughly you’d taken advantage.

“Yeah,” you said timidly, running your hands over the lovely, toned biceps that were currently wrapped around your waist. “I, um...have had some time on my hands, to say the least.”

Tyreen chuckled again. You really, really loved the sound.

“Let me reward you for a job well done—like I said, honey, you deserve it.” She withdrew her arms from around you, then promptly fell back to sit cross-legged on the comforter.

“Go on,” she urged, rubbing her hands together. “Show me what you want me to use on you!”

Your face became hot. It turned out she was going to reward you after all. A whole slew of exciting possibilities swarmed your mind, but it didn’t take long for you to arrive at an idea.

You stepped off of the bed and slowly began to walk toward the chest, the sway in your hips subtle and purposeful. You gave her a coy look back over your shoulder before bending over, shamelessly showcasing your assets as you rifled through the chest’s contents.

Here you were, attempting to titillate a God who could kill you in seconds flat. This might as well be happening.

“Mmm, stop teasing me! Hurry up and bring that sexy ass back here!” Tyreen yelled, and you yelped as you felt a pillow hit you square on the rear. You laughed, obliging as you finally reached for your toy of choice. You held it behind your back as you returned to the bed, a faux-innocent expression on your face as you dutifully stood before her.

“Show me,” she purred.

You held out the pink, leather flogger that you had found your first night in their ship. When she had spanked you in front of the masses, albeit once, you felt a thrilling jolt of pleasure that was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. It made you feel like she was claiming you. You wanted to chase that feeling, to see how deep that sensation could go, to truly surrender to her will.

It wasn’t lost on you that you were essentially handing her a weapon and asking her to hit you with it. You chose to be an optimist about the whole thing, though.

“Oh, wow, honey!” she laughed, clapping her hands together in delight. She leaned back, eyeing you almost proudly. “Didn’t expect you to go for that first thing. Though, after this morning, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

You blushed. She had a point. You were beginning to accept the fact that you were a bona fide debauchee, so you might as well just embrace it.

Tyreen stood from the bed and sauntered toward you, and any poise you managed to present quickly began to deteriorate. Anytime she made an advance, your knees turned to jelly, usually from a not entirely-unpleasant combination of fear and arousal. This time, for the first time, it was mostly arousal.

She sidled up to you, her hands sensually playing with your fingers before sliding the flogger out of your grasp.

“Is this how you want me to reward you, baby?” she whispered roughly into your ear, brushing the thick, leather tails lightly against your arm. “You want me to dominate you?”

She licked the sensitive inner shell of your ear, and you moaned softly.

“Yes, please,” you responded with embarrassing speed. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You actually felt yourself begin to tremble with excitement, too wrapped up in the thrill to even bother attempting to appear cool and collected.

She pointed to a plush, pink loveseat that was situated in the corner of the room. It was covered in soft throw pillows, each stitched with the Children of the Vault’s distinctive emblem. It was a nice touch.

“Bend over that chair, sweet thing. I want to see your ass in the air.”

You swallowed sharply and slowly made your way toward the chair, the tension in the air building exponentially with every step. You lowered yourself over one of the armrests, your nightgown riding up as you slid your stomach onto the seat’s cushion.

Her footsteps grew louder as she crept up behind you, and you felt her hand slowly drag your panties down your thighs. Cool air kissed your bare skin, and the anticipation of when she might strike made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Tyreen swept the flogger down your spine, leaving in its trail an electric, pleasurable sensation that made you instinctively arch your back.

“Since this is a special occasion, I’ll play nice this time. Say ‘mercy’ if it hurts too much. Can you do that for me, baby?” she asked, her voice an alluring combination of tender and authoritative. You felt her free hand dip down to caress your ass, and you shut your eyes, eagerly leaning into her touch. You could get used to her calling you “baby”.

“Yes,” you breathed, gripping the pillow beneath your chin tightly. “I can definitely do that.”

You weren’t sure what to expect from a BDSM session with Tyreen, but you were grateful for her surprising clemency. You didn’t know if vengeful Gods cared much for safewords.

“Good,” she said. You felt the leather rise from your skin, and you swallowed, bracing yourself for the inevitable blow. Instead, she just continued to speak, letting you stew in agony with your face buried in a pillow.

“Tell me, fangirl...how long have you been watching us?” she asked, her voice still unnervingly even-keeled. The coolness of her tone was measured, intentional, only barely-concealing the threat of what she could truly do to you. She was diabolical.

“Ever since you started streaming,” you replied quietly. It was true. You had chanced upon their stream when they only just started to amass a modest following, and here you were, baring your belly and ready to give her anything she wanted.

She hummed in approval. She dipped the tails between your legs then, and you felt the leather brush against the sensitive skin of your outer labia. You whimpered and wiggled your hips needily without thinking, and she chuckled.

“How long have you wanted me to fuck you?” she asked now, dragging the tails lightly against the soft curve of your hip. You shivered, knowing full well what your answer was. You suspected she knew it, too.

“Ever since you started streaming.”

She suddenly lashed at your ass. You jumped, a surprised cry escaping your lips as you felt the impact blossom sharply against your skin. You had never felt anything quite like it before—all you knew is that you wanted her to do again.

“Do you like that, sweetie?” she asked, the smile in her voice unmistakable. You felt a blush steadily spread across your cheeks.

It was clear that you weren’t the only one who was enjoying themselves. Butterflies migrated from the tips of your toes all the way up to your chest, a swell of pride and arousal in tow. You were quickly learning that her pleasure was intrinsically tied to yours.

“Yes, God Queen,” you moaned, biting your lip before burying your face deeper into the pillow. For the first time in days, you didn’t feel an iota of fear. You simply let go.

“Oh, you’re an obedient one!” she exclaimed joyfully. “I like that in my sex toys!”

She lashed at you two more times, now striking the backs of your thighs. She hit a little harder than before, and you moaned loudly, involuntarily, feeling a bead of fluid trickle down between your legs. You had never felt such a distinct, inexplicably pleasurable sensation before. It wasn’t quite pain; It was more physically overwhelming—and the more the tails struck you, the more tingling warmth they left in their wake.

“Tell me why you deserve to be fucked by your Queen,” Tyreen commanded, her voice equal parts affectionate and authoritative. “Tell me why I should bless your cute little cunt with my fingers.”

“I’d do anything to please you,” you replied instantaneously.

At this point, you weren’t sure if this was simply just dirty talk. It was almost scary how sincere the words felt coming out of your mouth, how effortlessly eager you were to put her needs before yours. Before you could dwell on this new worry, however, the instinct to obey quickly flooded away any remaining apprehension.

She resumed her attention on your ass, and you whimpered, losing yourself in the sting of the tails making contact with your skin. Gradually, you felt your thoughts begin to blur, the edges of your internal monologue losing their shape.

“Then beg for it,” she said, roughly gripping a handful of your hair. She yanked your head back, and you gasped in pain. The love for hair-pulling ran in the family, apparently. You didn’t particularly mind.

“Please,” you whimpered. “Please, God-Queen, please fuck my wet little cunt. I’ll do anything. Just please, please _fuck me_.” You heard the words being spoken by a voice that sounded a whole lot like your own. Despite that, it still felt like someone else was saying them. You moved and spoke without thought, without hesitation, utterly and entirely swept up by her.

She laughed wickedly and hit you _hard_ , and you practically shouted. This time, it did feel like pain—but it was the most incredible pain you’d ever felt. In that moment, you truly did feel like she was giving you a divine reward, your skin so hot and sensitive that it felt like your nerves were on fire.

She began to sweep the tails against your ass incessantly now, the sound of leather slapping against skin rhythmic and relentless. She hit you again and again, your pleasured cries punctuating each sharp strike like a chant.

You didn’t know the meaning of euphoria until this moment. You were so deep in a trance, so overwhelmed by her, that you barely registered the tears that were now rolling down your cheeks.

After a few more blissful moments, the onslaught of sensation suddenly stopped. You heard Tyreen chuckle behind you as she caressed your ass with her palm, her soft, kneading touch soothing against your aching skin. You welcomed the reprieve.

“Oh, you’re so _wet_ ,” she said appreciatively, spanking your pussy from behind. “You really are a nasty little slut, aren’t you?”

You moaned and nodded your head in affirmation, the lightest smack of her hand enough to send a powerful throb of arousal between your thighs. She giggled, then gently raked her nails over your ass. You cried out, the sensitivity of your skin increasing tenfold after her aggressive treatment.

After a few more tantalizing strokes from her nails, her hands gilded sensuously up your sides, gently guiding you off of the arm of the chair and into a standing position. You felt dizzy, not fully “awake” from your dreamlike state, so you were grateful when she led you back to the bed with a supportive arm around your waist.

She sat beside you on the mattress, once again confronting you with her piercing blue eyes. You still felt disoriented, struggling to summon words as residual adrenaline continued to swirl throughout your body. After giving you a few more moments to catch your breath, she finally broke the silence.

“You’re so cute,” she murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. She leaned in to kiss you again, and you felt yourself slowly begin to return to reality with the soft press of her lips. You melted against her, pliant, and you were almost disappointed when she pulled back to speak again.

“You okay?” she asked, taking your face in her hands. She wiped your tears away with her thumbs, awaiting your answer with an expression on her face that resembled something akin to genuine concern. It took you by surprise.

“More than okay,” you said, failing to suppress a goofy smile. You couldn’t help yourself. Maybe becoming unemployed and summarily kidnapped wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.

“Thought so,” she said, flashing you a wide, mischievous grin. She sat up from the bed then, and you watched her with curiosity as she stood with her back facing you.

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw her begin to pull her tank top over her head.

You suddenly realized that you had eaten her pussy before you had even seen her naked. You felt as giddy as a teenager when you realized that you were about to see her breasts for the first time, and, if you were being honest with yourself, it was a little embarrassing.

The fabric slid up her torso, revealing the stretch of her strong, toned back. The muscles of her shoulder blades were sculpted and defined, and you observed them, transfixed, as she bent over to step out of her boxer briefs. She unceremoniously flung them across the room, then turned around to present herself to you.

She was beautiful.

Her breasts were small, perky, and perfect. You had thought that Troy was the only twin with the proclivity for body mods, but it seemed that Tyreen had her own inclinations, as well. Her nipples were very visibly hard, and were pierced with silver barbells that looked sexy and striking against her skin. You wanted to lick them.

You were also happy to see her tattoos in their entirety, swirling over her chest, stomach, and legs. You dragged your eyes up and down her body, simply needing a few moments to truly take her in. You were mesmerized. She was intimidatingly beautiful—almost ethereally so—and you wondered if you actually hadn’t broken out of your trance yet.

“Mm, I have a fun idea!” she announced suddenly. She turned and made her way back to the chest, and you studied her ass as she walked away from you. It was muscular, round, and sprinkled with a few pronounced dimples that jiggled cutely with every step. You decided that you needed to examine them up close, and you would do so immediately as soon the opportunity presented itself.

She bent over the chest’s opening and dug around in its contents, searching intently for whatever she had in store for you. You were overcome with a thrilling sense of curiosity, and the sight of her pussy from behind certainly helped stoke the flame.

“Aha!” she exclaimed, extracting herself from the chest’s opening. You felt a hot blush spread over your face when she finally turned around, revealing the toys she was apparently so eager to use on you.

In one hand, she held what looked like pink wrist cuffs and a matching set of restraints. In her other hand, was a sizable strapon. You bit your lip.

She walked back toward you, then set the strapon aside on the nightstand beside the bed. It was thick, pink, and intimidatingly curved. You crossed your legs instinctively, hoping that it wouldn’t be long before it was put to good use.

“Thoughts?” she asked, extending the restraints in her hands. She wiggled them around in playful curiosity, and you giggled.

“Yes,” you replied instantly.

“Oh, you’re _fun_ ,” she cooed.

She rolled herself onto your lap and immediately began to claim your neck with hot, wet kisses, effectively rendering you into a squirming mess of nerves. You instinctively planted your hands on her ass, kneading and rubbing her soft skin as she made work of nibbling along your collarbone. You felt her begin to grind herself against your thigh, the sensation of her hot, wet pussy sliding against your bare skin almost too arousing for you to process.

Her lips trailed down your chest, until they made contact with the top of your nightgown. She eagerly pulled the lacy fabric over your head, then tossed it across the room to join her discarded briefs. She looked down to admire your body in its entirety, and you were rendered helpless under the weight of her leering gaze.

“Mmm, fangirl, you’re so fucking sexy...and you’re all _mine_ ,” she said darkly, spreading your legs forcefully with her hands. She pressed her front against you, and you moaned against the weight of her, wrapping your thighs around her hips to invite her even closer.

You began to run your hands down her back, eager to explore more of her, but she grabbed your arms to abruptly stop you in your tracks. She whistled as she affixed the cuffs around your wrists, easily securing the attached restraints to the bed frame.

Before you knew it, you were trussed and prone, your arms outstretched and frozen in place. You tested the restraints’ strength, and you could only summon only the slightest of movements. You were utterly vulnerable.

Her first course of action was to cup your now-exposed breasts, massaging them thoroughly and appreciatively with both hands. You moaned as she rolled your nipples between her fingers, hardening them and sparking their sensitivity with adept skill. As she toyed with you, you noticed that she steadily began to thrust herself against your thigh, the feeling of her warm, wet pussy only underscoring your bliss.

“I’ve been thinking about touching your sweet little body all day,” she sighed into your ear. She dipped her head down to lick a stripe along your collarbone, and you shivered, feeling deliciously helpless with your arms outstretched and immobile.

“It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to play with such a juicy pair of tits,” she continued, playfully jiggling your breasts between her hands. “Honestly, fangirl, It’s moments like these that make me ultra grateful that I’m gay.”

You giggled breathlessly, but she interrupted you mid-titter with particularly rough pinches to both nipples. You cried out, arching your back against her relentless fingers, and you felt a marked pressure from the cuffs around your wrists. A hot swell of arousal spread within you, and you whimpered loudly as you fought against their hold. Tyreen laughed in delight.

“Oh honey, you’re too much—I could torture you all night! I haven’t had this much fun since...well, since I tortured this one heretic from Eden-6 all night!” she exclaimed with joy.

This time, you didn’t even flinch. You were fully indoctrinated by the glories that were her hands and mouth, and you couldn’t summon an ounce of alarm if you tried. Instead, you just grinned, spreading your legs wider in the hope that she would begin to move her attentions elsewhere.

She mercifully dipped her head down to suck your right nipple, soothing the ache of her rough treatment. You moaned softly, continuing to writhe as her hot, delicate licks gradually turned into nibbles. You swore that you felt her becoming wetter against your thigh, and you basked in the evidence of her arousal as she continued to rock her pussy against your skin.

When she moved her attention to your other breast, you felt a jolt of excitement as her free hand began to trail down your stomach, her fingers lightly tickling your skin along its path. She rested her hand just above your pussy, and the agonizing proximity of her fingers was enough to make you involuntarily rock your hips.

She traced your outer labia with one finger, applying just enough pressure to cause a deep, tingling stir of arousal within you. You exhaled shakily, shutting your eyes at the frustratingly light pressure.

She giggled with your nipple still in her mouth, finally relenting to your frustration by using two fingers to gently massage both sides of your clit. She worked in a slow, steady rhythm, and you whimpered softly, becoming needier and needier as your pleasure began to mount. She detached her lips from your nipple with a wet, punctuated pop, and the sheer lewdness of the sound made your toes curl.

“Does that feel good, baby?” she asked, her voice sweet and simpering. The smug expression on her face made you suspect that she did, in fact, know that it felt good—it was clear that she just wanted to hear you say it. She deepened the pressure of her massaging fingertips, gliding them back and forth easily with the sticky wetness that was gathered between your lips.

“Yeah, t-that’s perfect,” you breathed shakily. Not only did Tyreen find the perfect spot to touch you on her very first try, but she also happened to touch it in _just_ the right way. It all seemed so unfair—it was as if she had printed out a list of all your buttons and was systematically pressing them one by one, reducing you to a puddle of horny, infatuated goo. You were starting to believe she really was a God.

After a few more moments of blissful stroking, she rolled off of her seat on your thigh to lay beside you on the bed. She coaxed her arm beneath you so that you could rest your head against her, and you felt your cheeks grow even warmer as she snuggled up to you. You were tied up, naked, and completely defenseless—yet she simply chose to hold you. She watched your face intently, eyes heavy-lidded and wanting, as she continued the important work of massaging your pussy.

You felt overwhelmed as she looked into your eyes, feeling closer to her than you ever thought possible. It was so shockingly intimate, that all you could do was look right back, struggling to maintain any semblance of composure. She began to swirl her fingers faster, moving them in firm, wet circles around your increasingly sensitive clit. Your eyes raked down her body as she pleasured you, thoroughly enjoying the sight of her tits bouncing slightly from the tireless motions of her arm.

“Are you going to come for me?” she asked in her delicious, gravelly tone, now rubbing you quickly and firmly as she matched the rhythm of your now-thrusting hips. She was moaning softly now, too, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“Yes, God Queen,” you moaned loudly, desperately. You were becoming more and more undone with each rapid stroke of her fingers, and you were positive that you weren’t going to last for much longer.

Your breathing became labored, panting as you buried your head against her shoulder to anchor yourself against the intense onslaught of sensation. She smelled so, so good—like a sweet, heady mixture of honey and sweat—and your already-heightened moans began to crescendo as you felt yourself begin to come closer to release.

Just when you were on the precipice of what surely would have been the most intense orgasm of your life, Tyreen suddenly withdrew her hand. She slid her arm out from beneath you, and you whined shamelessly, thrusting your hips in desperate protest. She laughed, then silenced your objections with a deep, sensual kiss. You hummed softly against her lips, thoroughly distracted by the sudden taste of her.

And then she spanked your pussy. Hard. You were beginning to suspect that she may actually be sincerely torturing you.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m about to make it _real_ good for ya,” she said, a smirk spreading across her face. She ruffled your hair before planting another kiss on your lips, and you smiled, failing to sustain your disappointment.

She sat up and started to crawl toward the other side of the bed, and you admired the teasing way her ass swayed as she moved. You noticed that her pussy was visibly wet, and you felt another deep tug of desperation within you. While you deeply enjoyed being restrained, a not-so-small part of you wished you could reach out and slide your fingers between her lips.

She settled to kneel in front of you, then promptly slipped two fingers into her mouth, sucking on them seductively before dipping them down between your legs. She pressed them teasingly against your entrance, and you inhaled sharply as she easily slipped them inside.

“Mmm, you feel so nice and _warm_ ,” Tyreen moaned before biting her lip. She slowly began to move her fingers inside of you, and you felt yourself contract around them as you adjusted to their welcome presence. Your arousal quickly began to climb again—not only because of the deep, exquisite friction of her rocking fingers, but because she just had to do that lip-bite thing you loved. You were weak.

“What a good, obedient little toy,” she said tenderly, now using her free hand to massage your aching, sensitive clit.

You began to pant softly, steadily, once again thrusting your hips to match the slow, deliberate strokes from her hands. Your restraints’ hold on your wrists only seemed to amplify the sensations that she was inflicting, reminding you that, in this moment, you were simply a toy to her. And with every deep stroke of her fingers inside of you, you felt more and more played with. Used.

“I bet you’d do anything for me,” Tyreen cooed, the swirl of her fingers over your clit becoming faster, firmer. “I know you loved seeing my followers jerk off to you…God, you’re such a little slut! I bet you’d even let some of them fuck you if I asked you to, wouldn’t you, fangirl?”

She suddenly curled her fingers inside of you, applying a deep, rhythmic pressure against the sensitive spot in your upper wall. You whined in response, feeling yourself skirt closer and closer to orgasm with every thrust and intoxicatingly lewd remark she made. The very notion of her “lending” you out to her disgusting followers was a horrifying one—but judging by your body’s reaction, you were also clearly disgustingly excited by it.

“Hmm,” she mused, the tone of her voice deceptively casual for someone whose fingers were buried inside of someone. “Come to think of it...our Let’s Flays are starting to get pretty stale. It wouldn’t hurt to give some of our followers a more interesting prize to slaughter each other over. Oh, I know!” she exclaimed suddenly, her face lighting up with excitement. “What if I let the winner come all over your face?”

Sincere or not, the mere suggestion was enough to make you moan in an overwhelming combination of arousal and humiliation. She watched you with parted lips as you writhed against your restraints, the sounds of her fingers sliding in and out of you somehow more wet and obscene when mingled with her laughter.

“You just want to come so badly, huh?” she asked breathlessly, fucking you with seemingly endless vigor. “Do you want me to finally give you your reward, baby? Do you want me to make you come all over my hands?”

“Yes, God-Queen,” you said, your voice faltering under the weight of your desperation. “Please let me come. _Please_.” You felt your mind begin to drift away again, once again struggling to form coherent thoughts. All that existed to you in that moment was you, Tyreen, and the pronounced ache that was throbbing inside of your entire body.

“When you come, I need you to come _hard_ for me,” she practically hissed. “I want all of Pandora to hear you. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, God Queen,” you repeated, moaning loudly with a primal need that completely obliterated any remaining trace of inhibition. You wouldn’t be surprised if all of Pandora could already hear you—at the very least, Troy certainly could.

She continued to fuck you tirelessly, rendering you weak with pleasure as she massaged your clit with skillful determination. It was when you began to hear her soft moans mingling with the wet sounds of her fingers that you knew you had reached the point of no return. Your mind was now completely blank, utterly submerged in the potent pleasure that was bubbling just beneath the surface. It was simply just waiting to be coaxed out.

“Come for me, fangirl,” Tyreen breathed.

Instantly, you felt tingles rise from your toes all the way up to your clit, igniting your body with pure, overwhelming sensation. You began to come harder than you ever have in your entire life, practically wailing as you rode each rhythmic, powerful wave of pleasure that rushed through you. Just when you thought you had to be over your peak, your orgasm simply continued, forcing you to arch your back against your restraints in paralyzing euphoria. You cried out loudly, shamelessly, beginning to twitch as your pussy contracted tightly around Tyreen’s still-pumping fingers. After a few more euphoric seconds, you slowly began to come down, panting softly as you slumped back down against the mattress.

Tyreen chuckled and finally removed her fingers from inside of you. She shoved them into your mouth, and you dutifully sucked off your own cum, gazing up at her with tired, adoring eyes.

After you licked her clean, she removed her fingers from your mouth and reached over you, making quick work of freeing you from your restraints. Once she had managed to unfasten the restraints and removed both handcuffs, you sat up and massaged your wrists gratefully. However, before you could do so much as stretch your arms, she suddenly straddled your lap again, leaning forward to plant a playful kiss on the tip of your nose.

“‘Kay, my turn now,” she said matter-of-factly. She reached toward the strapon on the nightstand, and you swallowed anxiously. You had completely forgotten about its presence, too swept away by her fingers to remember that she had grabbed it along with the restraints. You weren’t expecting to get fucked again so quickly, and at this point, you weren’t sure if you could handle it. You opened your mouth to voice your hesitation, but before you could get a word out, she began to slide the harness up your legs. This was certainly not what you were expecting.

You watched, captivated, as Tyreen crawled over you, positioning herself above the large cock that now protruded from your crotch. You didn’t think that your night could get any better, but you were blissfully mistaken.

She rubbed the tip of the dildo against her clit, effectively spreading her wetness all over the smooth, silicone head. You thought your soul might leave your body as you watched her lower herself over the thick cock, her pretty eyes shutting in pleasure as it slowly disappeared into her pussy.

You decided to take advantage of your hands’ newfound freedom by running them up and down her sides, savoring the soft, delectable curves of her long, lean torso. As she began to slowly rock herself above you, you reached up to massage her tits, ecstatic to discover that they felt even softer than they looked. You felt yourself become wet again as you played with them, adoring the cute little sounds she made whenever you brushed a thumb over one of her nipples.

“Fuck,” she said breathlessly, now rolling her hips above you in a steady rhythm. “They’ve been so fucking sensitive ever since I got them pierced.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked coyly, twisting them lightly between your fingers. Having your synthetic cock buried inside of her gave you a certain amount of nerve that you might not have otherwise.

“Mmn, you little tease,” she said, making a noise that sounded like a cross between a giggle and growl. She forcefully pushed you onto your back, and you yelped as she physically and metaphorically put you in your place. She began to bounce on the cock in earnest, rhythmically pushing you into the mattress as her ass slapped loudly against your thighs. You moaned when you saw her slip a hand between her legs, beginning to swiftly swirl two fingers over her clit.

Before now, you had never once considered that Tyreen would let you fuck her. It probably had something to do with the aura of complete dominance that she projected, making it challenging to imagine her putting herself in such a vulnerable position. But as you watched her lean back on your lap, hair askew and lovely as she swirled her fingers feverishly over her hot, repeatedly filled pussy, you felt extremely grateful that you were given the opportunity.

You gawked at her, captivated by the beautiful sheen of sweat that covered her lithe, sculpted body. Unable to keep your hands off of her, you reached up once again to cup her tits, relishing how soft they felt as they bounced in your hands. She leaned down to kiss you, and as her tongue moved against yours, you took it upon yourself to roughly grab her ass. You began to thrust yourself into her, meeting the rhythm of her hips in the hopes that she could feel even a fraction of what she made you feel just minutes ago.

“O-oh fuck, just like that,” she moaned loudly, bracing herself by gripping the headboard with her free hand. She was noisy—much louder than she was during the day’s earlier stream, when you were pretty certain her moans didn’t sound quite so high-pitched and airy. You suspected it had something to do with a lack of camera in the room (to your knowledge, at least), allowing her to be vulnerable in a way that might not click with the tough persona she so carefully cultivated.

When her cries became more desperate, combined with her fingers rubbing her clit at breakneck speed, you knew that she had to be close. You fucked her harder, raising your head to suck on her nipple as you continued to bury yourself inside of her over and over again.

“Just like that, baby, don’t stop, _don’t fucking sto_ –” her words trailed off into one long, strangled moan as she came, riding her orgasm with hard, forceful rolls of her hips. You moaned, squeezing her ass hard as she twitched above you, doing your best to memorize the pretty, utterly wrecked expression on her face. As her moans gradually began to quiet, you ran your hands up and down her back, soothing her skin until she finally collapsed on top of you.

After taking a few moments to catch her breath, she rolled over onto the sheets beside you, making quick work of sliding the strapon harness down your thighs. She set the toy aside on the nightstand, then promptly laid down to press herself against you, once again entwining her legs snugly with yours. You just laid there, blushing, thoroughly overwhelmed by the exceedingly intimate experience of being cuddled by Tyreen Calypso immediately after sex. She was surprisingly affectionate for a murderer. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Mmm, that was fucking _good_ ,” she sighed, caressing your belly tenderly with her palm. “It’s been way too long since I’ve been truly, properly fucked—I nearly obliterated my last dildo, I was so horny. Thanks, Fangirl.”

“My pleasure,” you said, smiling. It literally was. Making Tyreen come was your new favorite hobby, and you were absolutely going to be replaying her moans in your head daily for the foreseeable future.

”By the way, our little stream this morning got us three hundred thousand new followers,” she said, nuzzling her nose sleepily against your neck. “You did a real good job today. So good of a job, I don’t even want to leech the life out of you!” She chuckled a little to herself at the thought.

“You’re mine, you know that? Not that you really have a choice,” she added nonchalantly.

You realized that the former, sensible you might have been alarmed by her multitude of casually threatening comments. However, the irrational, post-orgasmic, and deeply infatuated you simply couldn’t care less. If anything, you just felt flattered.

“I know,” you said. “In case you couldn’t tell, I’m super into it.” And you were. You were now an honest-to-Ty Child of the Vault, and while you suspected that your fear would come rushing back first-thing tomorrow morning, you found it difficult to fret when her warm body fit so comfortably with yours.

“And _that’s_ why you’re my favorite,” she said playfully. She leaned in to kiss you again, and you just about melted into her arms. If dreamy, soft kisses were one of her brainwashing techniques, it was certainly working on you.

“Now hold me,” she yawned, rolling over so that her back was facing you. “Just because I’m a God doesn’t mean I don’t like to be the little spoon.”

You did as your Queen commanded.


End file.
